


No One Must Know

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Injury, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili knew it's a lost cause but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't not love Thorin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Must Know

**Author's Note:**

> I've ignored/denied the existence of the second movie long enough, so here's a (kind of) DoS-compliant fic. Also, you know how people say write what you know? Well, I know quite a lot about angst and tragedy.

Kili knew it was impossible. He knew that Thorin would never look at him as a lover. That his affection for him was that of a relative and a king. That it would never be Kili by his side, but a lady. That even if there was a sliver of chance for Kili, the blood they shared disallowed them to ever be together. Yet Kili continued to cling to every little smile, every look, every nod of approval, every word directed to him. Yet Kili continued to hope.

Fili must not know. He wouldn’t understand. He would think it’s silly, if not repulsive. It had to be kept secret. And what even Fili must not know, no one else should ever even think of. So, Kili hid it behind reckless behaviors and jokes and even tantrums. He knew he wasn’t doing himself any favor. What use would Thorin have for a child? But no one must know, most of all Thorin.

“You’re coming with us.”

It was everything Kili could hope for. He was raised to be a warrior, a sword and a shield for his king. He could not stay at home when he could be there, standing between Thorin and danger alongside his brother. Uncertainty would torture him and he preferred the pain of taking injuries for his king to pain of not knowing. Kili thanked Thorin wholeheartedly, his heart swelling at the smile tugging the older dwarf’s lips.

“He is too young!” Gloin complained.

“I won’t let you down!” Kili said at the same time. And he meant it. He wouldn’t let Thorin down. _Ask and I will obey_ , he wanted to say. _Point and I will run_ , he said in his mind. _Name what you wish me to be—a shield, a guard, a jester, a sacrifice—and I will change myself_ , he promised silently. _Just let me stay by your side_ , he pleaded without words.

It wouldn’t be easy. The distance was great, the danger unknown. He might never return. But Thorin called and Kili came. With his mother’s talisman kept close to his heart ( _return to me_ , she had said with tears in her eyes. _No parent wants to bury their child_ , a Wiseman whispered in his ear) Kili went to the meeting place. He laughed too loudly on the way, jumped high whenever he heard any odd sound, frowned when left with his thoughts for long.

“Calm down, Kili,” Fili chided, “You behave as if this is the first time you leave home.”

Kili denied and protested. Still, he had to admit it was a relief to see familiar faces in the Hobbit’s house. Safety comes in number. Together they could make up for what he lacked. Together they could realize what Thorin called them for. Silly, how such simple thing as company could make many things seem possible. Amazing how song and dance could make him forget his troubles. Funny, how firm knocks on the door could make Kili jump to his feet in both longing and apprehension. Only Gandalf’s wide steps stopped him from showing his questionable eagerness. Kili swallowed his excitement. No one must know.

There was no time for greeting. However, a smile was all it took to bring warmth to Kili’s heart. He was used to this. How many million times had he stood behind Thorin, watching the tall figure, listening to the deep voice, watching his lips curved into smirks, studying him to see what he might need? It was as it always was, yet it was something very different. Maybe it’s the unfamiliar location or the quest ahead of them. Kili clutched Thorin’s cloak close to his chest. The remaining heat in the cloth made him calm.

Kili listened to the discussion carefully, contributed a few words, and defended Thorin’s decision as he should. Slight doubt nagged his mind, but Thorin was determined, and wherever Thorin went, Kili would follow. There was no space for question. It was a duty to his blood as well as to his heart.

“Rest. You’ll need your strength,” Thorin said with a smile, patting Kili’s shoulder.

There was no time for chat. Kili understood that completely. He nodded with a smile of his own. The longing ached, but there was nothing he could do about it. As the journey went on, there would be even less opportunity for conversation. Kili had to get used to silence and distance. Hadn’t he learnt to do so for many years now?

It was enough to watch Thorin as Kili rode his pony at the back of the company. It was enough to join the discussion on the route they should take. It was enough to see him sleep in his exhaustion. It was enough to obey his orders. It was enough to make him smile once in a while as he entertained the company with silly aggravated stories. It was enough to see him all right.

However, at some unknown point, everything went wrong. Perhaps it started the night Kili made a joke about trolls. Perhaps it started much earlier. Kili couldn’t be sure.

Kili could feel the distance between him and Thorin grow. Thorin became more and more reclusive. He looked into the distance more often. He smiled to anyone, including Kili, far less. He barely spared a glance at Kili, let alone talk to him. Kili could feel that he was being pushed away and perhaps he deserved it ( _you’re too reckless_ , his mother’s voice said in his mind. _You’re a burden_ , a cold voice said in his mind, an echo of the unspoken thoughts of many) but still it cut deep.

So, he tried his best to make up for his slack. He stayed close to Thorin, always scanning the area to find danger, always ready to be called to serve as a warrior. If he could never be a lover and if he was barely considered a sister-son anymore, then at least Kili could always offer him his skills with sword and bow and arrow. He was not here to win Thorin’s heart. He was here to prove his worth as an archer and a swordsman. But still it’s not enough. It was never enough to bridge the chasm that now stood between them.

It was foolishness and desperation that turned him to the elves. They were fascinating creatures, as they are almost the complete opposite of dwarfs. Kili had seen a few glimpses of them before, but he had always known better than to follow his curiosity and risk Thorin’s wrath. But now, when acknowledgement of his presence was scarce (yet somehow still managed to make him dare to hope), Kili gave in to it.

Kili always struggled with being subtle and this time he tried even less to be so. It was too obvious, too risky to flirt in front of the company, even when Thorin’s back was turned to him. He sent his most charming smile and winked playfully, did the tricks he had learnt from watching others but he foolishly saved for Thorin. He kept glancing at the tall dwarf’s back, hoping to see some kind of reaction, but Thorin was focused on his discussion and Kili became more and more desperate.

Dwalin caught his eyes when he looked at Thorin and Kili’s heart nearly stopped. Had he been discovered? The thought of being sent home as a useless warrior and even more useless nephew suffocated Kili. No, no one must know. He could not be sent away. He would never be able to live with his conscience if his skill as a fighter was rejected, if he was denied his obligation to protect his king, if he tarnished even a smidgeon of his king’s reputation. So, Kili did what he did best: distracting others with stupidity. He sighed in relief when the company’s attention turned to his mistakes and then to Bofur’s song, at least until Thorin cornered him on their way to the resting place the elf lord had graciously provided for them.

“Elves, Kili?” Thorin asked, disapproval tingeing his voice.

Breath left Kili’s lungs abruptly and he found himself shaking slightly at the intensity in Thorin’s eyes. “I didn’t mean anything! I just…” _want you to look at me, talk to me, believe in me, remember that I’ll always be here for you_. “I was just bored. I’m sorry.”

Thorin growled in anger. “They are nothing but a disgusting lying race,” He spat out, sure to be heard by the elves accompanying them.

No one must know Kili’s pain. No one must know how the short exchange crushed his heart. No one must know anything. So, Kili laughed more loudly than usual, smiled more widely than usual, made more jokes than usual. He had a part to play, and it’s not that of a hopeless lover.

However, it would be much easier to not want and hurt if Thorin didn’t care at all, if Thorin considered him nonexistent, if Thorin hated him, if Thorin thought he’s worthless. Kili knew Thorin cared. He knew that despite the growing distance, the king always looked after him. He knew that something inside Thorin loved him; not in the way he loved Thorin, but it was love nonetheless. He could tell from the way Thorin called his name in the thunder battle, from the way he growled and hissed at the goblins beating him, from the way Thorin pulled him away from the shapeshifter’s deadly jaws. Every time Kili ached from ignorance and rebukes, these little gestures always brought him useless hope. He was loved, just never in the way he wished.

It’s greedy. It’s stupid. It’s hopeless. It could never be. Thorin would never love him, a lad, a child, a reckless soldier, and he had made it obvious. The distance between them shrank by an inch and expanded by a mile. Still Kili followed Thorin, for despite everything he could never be, he could always be a soldier to his king. For despite the silence, Kili he would always see hope. For despite the pain, he would always love.

Tauriel saw Kili for who he was: a deeply flawed dwarf. She found him amusing, but not a joke. She looked at him and talked to him and relieved him of some of his curiosity. He was not an enemy to her, although not quite a friend, either. There was a glimmer of unexpected fondness in her gesture, something he had nearly forgotten in this quest. Kili didn’t realize how much he missed home, how much loneliness had wrapped around him, how much broken heart had dulled him, until she came. He knew he was committing another mistake. Thorin must have heard, everyone must have known, but he didn’t care to hide. He was tired of lying. Let them judge. For once, he just wanted to be honest.

It was a pity that he had to abandon his newfound friendship, but he had an objective to accomplish and a severely limited time. They were rushing. There was no time for reprimand. Yet, Kili was still disappointed when he was left alone, not a single angry glare spared to him. He knew better than to assume he was forgotten. It was a punishment at its cruelest. He was cast aside, not even considered a part of the company, a sister-son, or a soldier. He was just a burden.

Desperate, Kili did everything in his power to reassert his worth. Balin was right, they weren’t the best fighters, not even Kili who had trained for battles. But he had determination to realize Thorin’s dream, to fulfill his duty to his family, to make Thorin happy.

The orc’s arrow pierced deep, the pain spread like wildfire. It burnt. It stabbed. It tore him. But Kili gritted his teeth and completed his tasks. He bore the pain quietly. They were still far from safety and he shouldn’t be a hindrance. No one must know, most of all Thorin.

“You all right?”

Kili looked at Thorin in surprise, not expecting to be addressed for something other than his responsibilities. The other dwarf looked mildly concerned, but it was enough to make Kili’s heart leap in joy. He wasn’t forgotten. He was forgiven.

It was a challenge to not smile, but the pain searing his thigh made the effort easier. Kili took a deep breath. Thorin must not know. “I can manage,” He lied because he couldn’t let Thorin down. Because this was important to Thorin and thus important for him to do well. Because if he could never be a faithful lover, then at least he could be a loyal servant.

He overestimated himself, however, and the pain from disappointing Thorin sliced deeper than the pain of being forced to run on wounded leg. He bound his injury tightly that night, hoping numbness would assist him in continuing the journey. They were so close, their goal visible and within reach. Kili couldn’t fail now. He couldn’t ruin it now. He had been enough of a disappointment thus far. He couldn’t afford more mistakes.

“We must travel at speed. You’ll slow us down.”

Kili didn’t know which hurt more: the admission that indeed he was a burden or the fact that Thorin didn’t bother to look at him as he spoke these words. He tried to smile and deny, the old tricks which never failed to get him what he wanted (except Thorin’s heart, for no trick nor magic could grant Kili that) and, when they failed, argued and insisted. He would not be left behind. He _could not_. He knew he had no chance to have Thorin’s love. How could Thorin deny him the privilege of being his shield as well? Couldn’t he have just one chance to bring Thorin happiness?

“Stay here. Rest. Join us when you’re healed.”

It was a moment Kili longed for. Thorin finally looked at him, talked to him, smiled at him, touched him. But it’s not the way Kili had wanted it to be. He knew what they meant: he was a burden, a useless soldier, a dwarf with no right to claim a place by Thorin’s side. Everything he could offer was rejected. His skills, his loyalty, his servitude, his love weren’t required by Thorin.

He should protest harder when Fili decided to stay, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even bear to look as the rest of the company sailed away to fulfill their duty to their king, a duty no longer demanded from him. A stabbing pain spread throughout his body, his heart clenched tightly, his throat clogged up, his eyes burnt.

“It’s over,” He whispered to himself.

“What?” Fili asked in concern, holding him up to carry him to safety to recover.

Being angry would make things easier. Feeling hateful might help him to move on. Vindictiveness could unload his burden. But he felt neither of those. He couldn’t feel those, because Thorin was right, everyone was right, and he was the only one to blame for being too reckless and too hopeful. Because he wouldn’t let go of what he could never have and could never be. Because, despite everything, he still loved Thorin.

“Kili?”

With the last of his will power, Kili locked the truth of his breaking heart safely behind a façade of youthful stubbornness. He shook his head as a reply to Fili’s question and Bofur and Oin’s inquiring gazes.

No one must know.


End file.
